Selective Mutism
by Sabulum Procella
Summary: Bill is trying to talk to him, but Gary doesn't want to talk to Bill. Bill is not a good partner. Oneshot.


**Title:** Selective Mutism  
**Genre:** General/Family  
**Rating:** K+ (slight language)  
**Timeline:** Addendum to "Wake Up Call."  
**Characters:** Gary, Bill and Rosen.  
**Warnings:** Major spoilers for S2E1. Un-beta-ed.  
**Summary: **Bill is trying to talk to him, but Gary doesn't want to talk to Bill. Bill is not a good partner. Oneshot.  
**Disclaimer:** Syfy = own. Me = fangirl.

I should be working on my Avengers prompts, but the Alphas premiere was JUST SO AWESOME that this idea wouldn't leave me alone. I had to get my Gary feels out. (To quote a very wise person on tumblr: if you don't adore Gary, then you're watching the series wrong.) So, I wrote this in one evening, discovered along the way how _hard_ he is is to write, proofread lightly, and now I'm slapping it up in the hopes that it doesn't suck too much. Feedback welcome. :)

* * *

When the chip first stops working, Gary shudders convulsively, and then balls his fists just to prove that he can. When that works, he begins chanting the mantra that had been repeating in his head for the past month: No. _No_. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

He couldn't do anything. He couldn't do anything unless they told him to.

Gary knows what it's like to trapped in his head. He has been struck mute before—unable to speak no matter how hard he tried, or how frustrated he got—and he hated it. He knows how it is to be unable to think past all the noise in his head. But this was worse.

Or rather, it was exactly the same, except that this time it never ended. He couldn't do _anything_.

It makes perfect sense to curl in on himself, shaking.

—

"Gary."

Bill is in the cell with him, wheezing like he does when his power is backfiring. Gary hears him, and sees him out of the corner of his eye, but doesn't look up from Binghamton's security feeds. Not even when Bill comes to sit by him and tries to get him to talk.

Gary doesn't want to talk to Bill. He doesn't want to greet him appropriately, especially since it's not even 9:00. The NSA agents had never greeted Gary appropriately, and Bill had left him with the NSA agents. Bill is not a good partner. They put a chip in his neck and nobody tried to stop them.

Cameron is in one of the rooms with a bunch of special agents, and the Alphas who escaped are gathering in the big room around a man. They all look angry.

Gary is angry, too.

Bill apologizes, but Gary still doesn't look at him. Instead, he looks at the feed of Dr. Rosen.

"He's here."

If nothing else, Gary decides that he is happy to see Dr. Rosen, because that means he's not in a mental hospital any more. Being in a mental hospital isn't much better than being in Binghamton, even if Dr. Rosen doesn't have a chip in his neck.

—

Gary wants to forgive Bill, but it's not okay to forgive someone if you don't really mean it, and Gary is still upset. So instead he says; "I get up at 7:42." They had only let him stick to part of his routine at the NSA office.

Bill looks up sharply. Gary rubs the back of his neck where the scar is as Bill sits down. "What'd you say?"

"I get up at 7:42," Gary repeats. "Brush my teeth, dress myself appropriately. Shirt. Pants. You have to wear pants, even if they're uncomfortable. It's important to wear pants when you leave the house."

"It's important to wear pants, and it's important to interact with people. Right, Gary?"

No, that doesn't come until later. 9:00. Gary frowns at the fact that Bill doesn't understand. "I get up at 7:42. Brush my teeth, dress myself appropriately..."

—

Gary hasn't been outside in a long time. The brightness makes him wince, and everyone is running and yelling, and one of the other prisoners is pushing him. He doesn't like it. He focuses even more intently on the signals flashing around him so that he doesn't have to pay attention. The signals are noisy, too—lots of people are using radios, and radio waves are loud—but it's still better than trying to figure out if he's relieved or not. You shouldn't be relieved when criminals escape, especially if they take you hostage.

Gary hasn't been in a car in a long time, either. They shove him into it so that he's sitting right next to Bill, and he inches away, looking in the other direction.

"Gary," Bill rasps. "Bud. It's gonna be okay."

Gary stares at the feed of Cameron and doesn't reply.

Gary has never been in a car crash until today. He has been dizzy before, though, and Dr. Rosen had checked his head that time, too. Maybe Dr. Rosen can get them to take the chip out.

—

Gary feels better once he's back at the office where he's _supposed_ to work. He sits in his usual chair, and tries to feel better about being free—but his neck still hurts, and he still can't decide if he's relieved or not. Bill is trying to talk to him, but Gary doesn't want to talk to Bill.

Eventually, Bill tries to coax him out by talking about his routine. But this just proves why Bill is not a good partner, even if he had apologized. Gary's routine hasn't been right ever since he went to the NSA, and anyways, Bill is getting it wrong. And he called him a bastard. That isn't nice. Gary isn't supposed to greet them now. He greets them when he comes into work at 9:00.

"You're on the right track."

Gary turns his head slightly at the sound of Dr. Rosen's voice.

He doesn't react when Bill leaves, or when Dr. Rosen sits down. This isn't right, though, because they don't have a therapy session scheduled for today, and they're in the break room...

"Gary," Dr. Rosen says anyway; "I understand why you're not greeting everyone. Greetings usually happen at 9:00 AM."

Yeah, exactly!

"So, now it is... 3:14. We're not on a case, so what do you usually do around 3:14?"

Gary doesn't reply.

Everything still seems too loud. The back of his neck still aches, and he rubs at it again idly as he listens to Dr. Rosen speak. It feels like they didn't remove the chip at all. But they did. So why is it so hard to talk?

Perturbed, Gary stares at the cell frequency floating just above the table and tries to figure out if what Dr. Rosen is saying makes sense.

He is not at the NSA any more, or at Binghamton. Also, Dr. Rosen is back, which means that things will go back to normal and he can resume his daily routine. That routine includes calling his mother at 3:15 from work. He hasn't been at work for a month. She had made him promise to call every day, because when he doesn't call she gets worried. And he couldn't talk after they put the chip in his neck, and his mother gets upset when he can't talk because then he can't tell her what he needs...

Gary punches the call button.

Oh, it's the voicemail. He hates the voicemail.

"Mom! I'm at the office and I'm fine. I don't have a chip in my head any more. Okay, bye."

—

They hug him, and he doesn't like it, but it's maybe not so bad. Hugging is a gesture of affection. Friends hug. Even Bill, who is not a good partner, is still Gary's friend, so he settles for complaining and doesn't try to get away too much.

But if Gary is going to talk and tell people what he needs, then he is going to start with Bill, because Bill let him go to the NSA.

He is still angry. He _is_ relieved that the other prisoners escaped, even if they are the badguys. But he's even more relieved that everyone is back together again.

Even if Nina insists on kissing his cheek.


End file.
